It was noon when the caravan reached the tower of the water-clock. . Baptist Kettleby (for so was the Master named) was a "goodly portly man, and a corpulent," whose fair round paunch bespoke the affection he entertained for good liquor and good living. ‘I would read your body,’ he whispered, and lifted her fingers to his lips. “It’s fine, Michelle. Mac's. His client’s story is safe with him.
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